“Thank goodness!” said that retreating aspect, “that’s said and over. I have suffered him to be brought up decently—honestly; because I would make his fall the greater, and deepen the wound I meant to inflict upon his mother. His brute strength surged through her veins, she could feel his energy in her heart, his life force stolen like candy from a baby. Hearing the noise of the scuffle, the tapstress, fancying it was Jack making an effort to escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the executioner, threw open the wicket. From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk.
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